Department Thirteen
by etienneofthewestwind
Summary: In focusing on the war against Voldemort, what has the Order of the Phoenix overlooked? Fred tries to answer that question when Percy visits him. Meanwhile, the rest of Weasley family discovers something about the Ministry.
1. Weddings

Department Thirteen  
by étienneofthewestwind

**Disclaimer:** I do not get royalties from the books, so I do not expect money from this.

**Summary: **In focusing on the war against Voldemort, what has the Order of the Phoenix overlooked? Pairings: BW/FD, PW/MF, RL/NT, RW/HG, past HP/GW, and possible FW/OFC. Be warned, this story contains a slash pairing, but no explicit scenes for any of the couples. The rating is for war-related violence.

* * *

Percy sat writing, his red head bobbing up and down as he concentrated on what he wrote. After several minutes, he sighed and set his quill down. He moved the long piece of parchment to the side. "If you require an audience with the minister," he said stiffly, "then say so. I'm sure you have better things to do than stand there." He looked up as the older redhead at the door started.

"I want to talk to you. I… didn't want to interrupt your report."

"Why?"

"I know how important your work is to you," the older man replied.

"Why do you wish to see me?"

"Percy..." the balding redhead swallowed hard. "Bill's getting married tomorrow."

"I'm aware," Percy answered shortly, his eyes unreadable behind his stern, horn-rimmed glasses.

"Will you be there?"

"No. You and Bill can rela--"

"When are you going to come to your senses?" the other man demanded.

"I could ask you the same, _Father_."

"Terribly sorry I'm such a disappointment!" the other man snapped sarcastically. He slid off his wire-framed glasses, and began polishing them. "You really think it's worth it? A couple missed Christmas' for your career is one thing, but your brother will only get married once. When you have nowhere else to rise, you won't be able to hide from what you lost."

"Nice speech. You just missed a couple points. _You _did not want me at those Christmases, and _Bill_ doesn't want me at his wedding."

"If you'd just apologize--"

"Maybe if I thought I'd get one in return!"

"Fudge was proven wrong!" Arthur snapped.

"That's not the--"

"Percy," a man with tawny hair stepped out of the inner office. "I think we can--Hello, Art. It's been a while."

Arthur nodded at the man. "Minister," he said neutrally.

Percy stood, turning away from his father. "I'll be there in a minute."

"No rush," the Minister of Magic said casually. He walked past Percy and extended his hand. "It's good to see you again, Art. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Arthur answered the other man cautiously. His work in Magical Law Enforcement had often brought him into contact with Rufus Scridgemour. Still, Arthur had never called the other man friend. Nor had the former Head Auror ever acted this friendly to him.

"You sure?" Scridgemour pressed. "You look tired."

"Just a little. It's been busy lately."

Scridgemour's face darkened. "Dumbledore's death certainly revived all the panic we had managed to quell. It's a pity people don't place more trust in their own ministry."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at that. "Well, the Ministry _did_ allow You-Know-Who's return to go unnoticed," he said, staring straight into Percy's eyes.

Percy stared right back, expression unreadable.

Scridgemour looked uncomfortable. "Yes, well… When this war is over, we'll have to shine a stronger light on Fudge's actions. Still, turning to someone like Dumbledore..." Scridgemour shook his head. "Anyway, forgive the interruption. What were we talking about again?"

"_I _was talking to my son about his brother's wedding," Arthur said coldly.

"One of your boys is getting married?" Scridgemour asked too brightly. "That's wonderful! Which one? When?"

Arthur stifled a scowl at the Minister's prying. He glanced over Scridgemour's shoulder to Percy. _Not like the Minister won't just ask him, _he thought bitterly. "Bill," he said flatly. "Tomorrow."

Behind Scridgemour, Percy's eyes attempted to burn Arthur's own out of his head.

Scridgemour turned to Percy. "Is that that why you wanted the day off?" he asked, seeming unaware of the glare the young man had aimed at his father. Percy blinked and refocused on the Minister. "You should have said so."

"You asked for the day off?" Hope and amazement welled in Arthur's chest.

"Yes," Scridgemour answered at the same time Percy said 'No'.

Silence rang through the room. For a change, Percy had the grace to look embarrassed. _I'm sure it's just because he embarrassed the Minister of Magic, _Arthur thought bitterly.

Percy cleared his throat. "Tomorrow's schedule is packed, and we don't have time--"

"It's Saturday," Arthur pointed out sourly. "Surely you can slip away for a couple hours."

"An excellent point!" Scridgemour exclaimed. "Though I never expected you to invite me!"

"Minister, I didn't intend--"

"You're not invited," Percy bluntly cut through Arthur's attempt at polite refusal.

"Oh, nonsense, Percy," Scridgemour replied dismissively. "Your father's giving you the perfect solution. We work together until the ceremony, and you get to enjoy your brother's wedding. Oh, you do have a point about all we need to do," the minister continued, as Percy opened his mouth to protest some more. "We'll just have to stay late tonight and come in early tomorrow. Everything'll be fine. Right Art?"

* * *

HOW DARE YOU!" Bill thundered. "Inviting that _worthless _git to _my _wedding!"

Arthur sighed and pushed his potatoes around with his fork. "I'm sorry Bill," he said. "Scridgemour made the assumption, and I couldn't think of how to tactfully refu--"

"NOT_ HIM_! PERCY!"

Arthur's wife, Molly, stifled a sob. Arthur glanced at her before he turned to his son. Bill's long red hair hung loose around his shoulders. Fury made the fresh scars on Bill's face look more sinister.

"He's your brother," Arthur said simply.

Down by Molly, another tall redhead snorted. "Try telling _him _that." Across from him, his sister nodded in agreement.

"I know, Ron," Arthur said tiredly. "He's taking far longer to come around than I ever dreamed."

"Why should we care if he does or not?" his youngest son pressed.

Arthur surveyed the rest of the table. Between Ginny and Charlie, the normally jovial twins looked grim. Like the rest of their siblings, they appeared to agree with Ron. Across from them, Ron's best friends, Harry and Hermione looked uncomfortable sitting in on the conversation.

"Things are incomplete without him," Arthur admitted.

"You haven't tried to bring him back before now," Ginny said.

"I know. Whatever we miss from his absence, he loses more. I figured it served him right, and would drive the lesson further in."

"Fine with me," Bill said coolly. "What changed?"

Arthur reached out and pushed the hair on Bill's left side behind his ear. "You were attacked. It drove home that we're in a war." Someone abruptly choked back a laugh. "I realize it sounds silly," Arthur continued, looking round the table, "but in so many ways, the past two years are nothing like You-Know-Who's first rise. It reached the point where a day didn't pass by without the news of deaths. Muggles, Muggleborns, Halfbloods--and Purebloods. Not just the ones that opposed him, either. Sometimes You-Know-Who would leave the ones who angered him alive while he hunted down their friends and family. I remember one day, just after we learned to expect Ron. I was sitting in a meeting. This owl swooped in and dropped a round bundle of cloth in front of Connor McKinnon. It looked like a wrapped quaffle."

"But it wasn't?" Hermione guessed quietly.

"His three year-old's head."

Down the table, Ron--the only one of Arthur's brood to have continued eating since Bill's outburst--turned green and dropped his fork. Across from him, Ginny rolled her eyes. She muttered 'Pygmy Puff', and took a bite of potatoes. Ron turned greener.

"Security was frantic, trying to figure out how that package slipped through the wards. Ministry staff dropped, as people decided on 'safer' occupations. I was scared to go in to work too. But I was terrified to leave at the end of the day, for fear of what I'd find. You were all just children with no magical training.

"It's different now. You-Know-Who's forces aren't near what they were. It will take him years to reach that level--would have even if we were all unaware of his return. And you're not babies anymore. All of you have grown up tougher than the average witch or wizard. Even Percy, if not as much. And he _is_ within the Minister's security. I believed--I _allowed _myself to believe you would all survive. I couldn't bear to think otherwise.

"But if Dumbledore... You..." Arthur swallowed hard. "We don't have the luxury of waiting for Percy to see the light on his own. Anything could happen at any time. And with Percy on his own, we wouldn't even know if You-Know-Who came after him--"

"Don't worry about _that_." Ron cut in. "He'd be too busy joining up to get killed."

"PERCY'S A GOOD BOY!" Molly wailed.

"DON'T JOKE LIKE THAT!" Fred snapped at the same time.

_"Joke!?" _Ron spluttered.

"Someone could take it the wrong way," Fred said. "He could wind up falsely imprisoned alongside Stan Shunpike."

"I _wasn't _joking!"

Fred's jaw dropped. "You can't believe Percy would ever join _him_."

"Why not? All he cares about is himself. If he thought You-Know-Who'd win, he'd try to get himself a top position under him."

"He'd never!" Fred protested.

"I never thought he'd leave us for the Ministry," his twin said. "And if his ambitions mean that much to him--"

"The _rules _mean more to Percy than anything. George, remember how creepy we used to think Perce was? We'd joke that he'd die if he broke the rules. Obviously, that's silly. But... You know how the Lovegoods are unable to tell fantasy from reality? I think Percy's _incapable_ of breaking the rules. What set him off wasDad saying that he should go against the Ministry's position. Which _is _breaking the rules."

"Fudge was wrong!" Ron protested.

"He didn't know that," Harry said quietly.

"He should have!"

"Yeah," Harry answered sadly.

"Even if he did, I'm sure he would have felt going against the Ministry was the wrong way," Fred said. "Anyhow, joining You-Know-Who is also against the rules."

"Maybe," Bill said. Down the table, Ron and Ginny seemed less than convinced. "But there are unwritten rules that say you love and respect your family. He still chose the Ministry's rules over us. I'm sorry Dad, but Percy's no longer my broth--"

"DO YOU SEE THAT?" Molly abruptly quit weeping as anger filled her face. She pointed to the corner of the kitchen where she had placed her mother's clock in the dish rack. All hands pointed squarely at 'mortal peril'. "NINE HANDS! _PERCY'S STILL YOUR FAMILY_!"

"WELL HE SHOULDN'T BE!" Bill snapped, heedless of his mother's increasingly irate face. "He_ chose _to abandon us. He deserves whatever he gets."

* * *

Percy still topped the conversation the next day as the family prepared for the wedding. "I can't believe we have to put up with that prat at the ceremony," Ron complained in his room as put he on his dark silver and gray groomsman robes.

"Try to let it go," Harry advised as he finished putting on his navy robes. "This is Bill's day."

George snorted. "I just hope _Bill _keeps that in mind," he said as he finished securing his silver tie and grabbed his outer robe. "I don't think Fleur would appreciate her groom yelling mid-vow."

"You reckon he would?" Harry asked.

Fred sighed. "It depends on what Percy does. Bill was at some goblin museum when the row with Dad happened. At first, he was like Mum--wanting us to reconcile with Percy. But as Perce kept being a prat... After last Christmas, he'd had it. And Bill's temper has gotten shorter since his run-in with Greyback."

"What _did_ happen at Christmas?" Harry asked. "I didn't want to ask with your Mum so upset."

"That git said he wouldn't apologize!" Ron spat.

"He--If he couldn't bring himself to admit he was wrong, why bring it up?" Harry asked.

"Dad did," Fred answered quietly. "After Scridgemour dragged you out, things were... tense. Percy tried to speak to Dad. He told Percy to stuff whatever apology he had until it was genuine, not a Ministry ploy. Percy asked why he _had _to apologize."

"Yeah, _then _he had the nerve to say Dad's mental!" Ron grumbled.

"That's when we tossed the parsnips at him," George said. "Got him good, too."

"Wish you two had let me in on the plan," Ron said wistfully. "The look on his face..."

"Well Ginny picked it up without any trouble." George replied brightly. "Right, Fred?"

"Yeah." George turned to Fred with a look the older twin recognized, even as he felt George's concern.

"Why are you so glum?" Ron demanded.

"I'm worried about Dad," Fred admitted. "If Percy refuses to make things right with him... He's been different since Bill's attack."

"He does seem older," George replied.

"Well he suddenly realized we're at war," Ron said. "_Eighteen months _after You-Know-Who's snake bit him. Honestly! I don't know what goes through his head sometimes."

_"Then explain it to me, Percy!"_

_"How? The way you think is a mystery!"_

Fred blinked the memory of last Christmas away to find his twin staring at him. _What? _he thought. _It's not like Percy_ _had any right to say that. _

"I don't think that's quite what he meant," Harry said somberly. "I think it just struck him what losing one of you would be like. Bill _did _nearly die."

"Come again?" Ron blurted indignantly. "What about me last year?"

"Well, once Madam Pomfrey saw you, we knew you'd pull through," Harry said quietly. "And--"

"_Ron _nearly died!" Fred blurted.

"Dumbledore's call said he was hurt--" George said.

"But nothing that couldn't be mended," Fred finished.

"It wasn't as near as Bill," Ron conceded, "but I _could_ have died. And I didn't need the experience to tell me what could happen."

"We knew your Dad could get hurt," Harry said. "It was still a shock to everyone when Nagini attacked."

"We hadn't wanted to dwell over it," Ron muttered.

"Nor did your Dad."

"Fine. But what does that have to do with Percy?" Ron finished buttoning his waistcoat and grabbed his tie. "_He's_ not fighting. All he does is fawn over the Minister of Magic."

Harry looked at Ron with a fed up expression. "What leader do you think Voldemort is most likely to target next?"

Fred froze as Harry's point penetrated. George's concern echoed through him. Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Well, as close as Percy is to Scridgemour, the Minister's Security will protect him. I mean, its not like Dumbledore was traveling with guards when Snape got him."

"What guards?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Exactly. Dumbledore was such a powerful wizard that he didn't think--"

"No," Harry interrupted. "What guards do you think Scridgemour has?"

"Its standard Ministry procedure in times of war," Fred told Harry as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. "The Minister and his top staff are accompanied by at least one, preferably two bodyguards."

"At _all _times?" Harry asked sharply.

"Yeah," Ron replied.

"Then shouldn't a guard have come with Percy and Scridgemour at Christmastime?"

Fred turned around sharply. "There wasn't anyone else outside?"

Harry shook his head. Fred could feel George's shock, and even Ron had started to look concerned. "He probably just had them invisible or out of the way," Ron muttered.

Fred gaped at him. "How effective can an out of the way guard can be?"

"Well, he wanted to convince Harry the Ministry was worth supporting, right?" Ron said. "He wouldn't to look weak or afraid. I'm sure he'll have someone at the ceremony."

"Yeah," Fred agreed, ignoring the uncertainty in his stomach.

"FRED! GEORGE! RON! HURRY UP AND GET DOWN HERE!"

Fred forced his face into a smile. "You heard Mum." He walked to the door and tapped Ron and Harry on the arms as he passed them. "Cheer up. This is a wedding--"

"Not a funeral," George chipped in as he followed his twin out of the room.

* * *

Thirty minutes later--and after their mother conducted a thorough wand-scan for the each of the twins--Fred stood between Charlie, the best man, and George. On the other side of George stood Ron. The brothers lined up on the groom's side in front of the orchard behind the Burrow. Opposite them stood the four bridesmaids in pale blue gowns: Fleur's ten year-old sister Gabrielle, Ginny, and Fleur's two best friends from school, Amanda and Tessa, the maid of honor. Despite still disliking Fleur, Ginny seemed to have become instant friends with Gabrielle.

Several rows of chairs had been set up on the grass, with space in the middle for an aisle. In the front row of the groom's side, Harry and Hermione sat with the Weasley boys' Mum, Dad and Great-Aunt Muriel. Mrs. Weasley alternated between dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief and carefully eyeing the twins. Beside him, Fred could feel George thinking at him. He opened his side of their link. _...Still seems to think we're going to set Wheezes off mid-ceremony. Honestly, like we'd do that to our own brother!_

_Quite_. _Mum should learn to be more trusting. So, do you remember what to say? _Fred asked as he surveyed the rest of the crowd. Various cousins and a few friends of Bill's from school or Gringotts sat in the rows behind the Weasley parents. Percy and Scridgemour sat in the last of those rows. Tonks sat on the other side of Scridgemour, with Lupin at her side. The werewolf kept throwing confused looks at Percy, Tonks, and Scridgemour. No faces Fred did not know sat around them.

_Of course, I even--Fred?_

_Harry was right, _the older twin replied._ There are no guards._

_Merlin! _George mentally ran through several curses as seated guests turned to look over their shoulders._ Mum and Dad are worried enou--Oh, way to go Ronnie!_

_What?_

_He's giving Percy death glares. At this rate, _he'll _be the one disrupting the wedding._

An enchanted flute began playing itself. On that cue, most of the guests turned to the front. Bill and Professor McGonagall, who would conduct the union in Dumbledore's stead, stepped out of the burrow. They walked down the aisle and took their places beneath the trees. The flute's song changed. Fleur emerged from the house, escorted by her father. She wore a deep blue gown and a lovely Goblin-made tiara sat on her blond head. As she joined Bill, Mr. Delacour sat next to his wife in the front of the bride's side. Fred turned with the rest of wedding party to face McGonagall. McGonagall opened her mouth to begin--

A loud, ear-splitting screech sounded as the anti-Apparition wards fell around them. Fred grabbed for his wand. The guests scrambled out of their seats. Several people in black robes and white skeletal masks Apparated between the house and the wedding. Out of the corner of his eye, Fred saw Percy face the Death Eaters as he pulled his wand and shoved Scridgemour behind him. Tonks kicked the chairs in front of her over as she pulled her wand. She stepped behind the Minister, her back to his. Lupin and several guests ran to confront the attackers. Ron ran to join them, while Charlie yelled to the rest of the brothers the importance of acting as a group. Several other guests ran towards the wedding party to escape the Death Eaters. More than a few collisions resulted.

As the group of Death Eaters advanced, curses began flying out of the orchard behind the wedding party. Tessa collapsed to the ground. Fred threw himself to the ground as McGonagall screamed. A green curse flew overhead as Fred scrambled to face the trees. George shouted a curse into the orchard. Charlie and Fred quickly followed with their own hexes. With the trees providing cover, none of curses hit target.

"Mum's not going to be happy," George muttered beside him.

_Death Eater attack? _Fred thought to himself. _I'd hope not._

A spell shot from his twin's wand and ignited the nearest tree.

_Oh. _Fred quickly cast his own _incindio_. Another flew from the side.

"Go ahead," Bill's voice carried over from where he and Fleur crouched next to Charlie. "If we all survive for Mum to go spare, we'll let the twins face her."

Fleur lifted up and cast another fire spell before flattening herself back over her little sister. Bill and Charlie started firing their own flame hexes. Fred and George cast another round. Black robes scrambled away from their cover, more than one extinguishing flames on themselves.

"THAT BLOODY COWARD!" Ron suddenly screamed. Fred glanced his way. Somehow, he had managed to join up with Harry and Hermione to fight. A curse sailed over Fred's ear. He turned back to the grove. Apparently the Death Eaters had cast fireproof charms on themselves and resumed their advance. "_PERCY!_ THAT _SOD_ JUST PORTKEYED HIMSELF TO SAFETY! HE--ARRGGH!"

Fred quickly glanced over his shoulder. A curse had grazed Ron. A Death Eater ran past the trio batting at what looked like Ginny's bat-bogey hex--on a mixture of Skele-Gro and Muggle steroids. _We'd better quit trying to piss her off when bored._

Fred felt a similar thought go through George's head. A sudden gust of wind blew the thick smoke of the burning trees over the wedding party and guests.

* * *

Fred had no idea how long the fighting had lasted. He had even lost track of his twin, and would not contact him for fear of distracting George at a critical time.

Fred cast a powerful sleep spell and knocked the Death Eater in front of him down. It would take more then a simply _enervate _to revive the fallen man--if another Death Eater even spotted him. A sickly green spell sailed his way. Fred ducked, then coughed. When the smoke settled over the battlefield, Charlie quickly cast a bubble-charm over his mouth and nose. He then made sure the rest of the nearby Weasleys and Delacours followed suit. Fred did the instant he saw Charlie cast his spell, but had all ready inhaled something that stuck in his lungs.

Cautiously, Fred headed the way the killing curse came from. Nearby, a Death Eater and a redhead faced off. Between the smoke and a black spell covering the lower half of the redhead's face, Fred could not recognize him. _Not Ron or Bill. Not in that color with short hair. The build and stride are definitely lanky-Weasley, though. A cousin? _The unknown redhead shot a silent spell at his opponent and then sidestepped as another Death Eater appeared and targeted him. The redhead returned that fire as his first opponent aimed at his side. Fred fired his own curse at that Death Eater. It bounced off a shield as the other redhead advanced to his opponent, dodging another hex. He fired a blue spell that Fred had never seen before. It took the Death Eater's arm off--a woman, Fred guessed from the screams.

Yet another Death Eater showed up and shot a curse at Fred. _What ever happened to one-on-one duels? _Fred hit the third Death Eater with a disarming spell. The wand sailed to him. He threw a sleeping spell at that Death Eater. He went to help the other redhead when a scream sounded behind him. _Ginny! _Fred turned and ran.

A few paces later he came across a pair of Death Eaters who had grabbed a hold of Gabrielle Delacour. Fred aimed his wand, but decided he would hit the girl. He ran up and seized the robes of the closest Death Eater. Fred pulled the man back with his left hand, and brought his wand up--

Pain flared through Fred's side, shoulder, and right leg. He fell to the ground, dropping his wand. Something discolored patches of his robe.

He looked up and saw a Death Eater several feet away. That Death Eater suddenly crumpled to the ground. The redhead from earlier stood behind him. He strode forward and levitated the Death Eater by Fred away from Gabrielle. The other Death Eater attempted to hold the girl, but she bit him. When his grip slacked, she ran off. The Death Eater grabbed his wand from inside his robes and aimed it at the unknown redhead. "Release him, or you're dead."

"Is that so?" asked a voice both familiar and foreign. With a snap of his wrist, he released the spell and threw another at the second Death Eater. The levitated Death Eater plummeted to the ground. His head slammed on a rock, and blood splattered up into the air. A quick exchange of curses, and the remaining Death Eater went down.

The unknown redhead came over and knelt on the ground next to Fred. "Did you get a look at that potion?"

Fred gaped up at him. The blackness in front of his mouth and nose wasn't a spell, but a mask made out of black dragon hide. He wore matching gloves. At some point, blood had splattered on the left side of his forehead and the horn-rimmed spectacles that covered familiar blue eyes. Wavy hair, usually combed smartly back, had come loose. "What the hell are you doing here?" Fred blurted.

The other man pulled back as if slapped. "Dad--"

"No! I thou--" Fred hissed as the pain grew stronger. "Ron said you portkeyed to safety," he spat out.

"I portkeyed _the Minister _to safety," Percy replied tightly. He reached forward, and ripped Fred's robe away from the wound on his leg. The material tore too easily for the quality of robe. "And alerted the Aurors while I was at it."

"Oh." Fred replied blankly, as Percy began to rip apart his trouser leg. "I haven't seen any--" Fred cried out as Percy's gloves scrapped against the wound.

"It takes time to gather a team the size of the attack force," Percy snapped. "Not to mention the Death Eaters cast their own anti-Apparition wards."

"They can't get here?"

"They'll walk from the edge of the barrier, just as..." Percy trailed off, going pale as he stared at Fred's leg.

Fred forced himself to sit up enough to look at it. When stars cleared from his vision, he saw his skin crumbling away like sand. His blood too, judging from the lack of it. "Merlin..."

Percy ripped the front of his robes open. More black dragon hide covered his chest and neck, contrasting with a silver medallion hanging over Percy's heart. "Hang on," Percy said wrapping one hand around his brother's ankle. He tapped the back of the medallion and muttered under his breath. A portkey jerked at Fred's navel, and the smoke-filled woods vanished.


	2. Assumptions

I apologize for the long wait, but real life invaded my writing time throughout most of spring.

**Disclaimer: **Writing in this world has not made me any money, nor will it ever.

* * *

The Portkey stopped on top of a white tile floor. Fred looked around the furnitureless room. In a corner stood Minister Scridgemour, ex-Minister of Magic Fudge, and an irate-looking blond woman in a long Muggle coat of black leather. 

Percy lifted Fred up into his arms, jarring the painful wounds. He dashed past the other occupants as the woman addressed Percy. Ignoring her, Percy passed through a doorway into an infirmary. "MARC!" he called sharply. "HEALER JONES!" A dark haired man stood up from the corner of the room and ran over to him. About the same age as Percy, Fred felt he had seen the broad-shouldered man before. His robes had the emblem of a wand and bone crossed, but were a darker shade of green then the healers at Saint Mungo's Hospital wore. A gray haired man stood and walked over calmly. He wore normal healer's robes.

The woman stormed into the infirmary after them. "Explain yourself, Weasley."

"He got hit with a potion, Marc," Percy said, gesturing to the woman to wait. The blonde did not look pleased. The younger healer conjured a stretcher and waved an aide over. "I hope it's that new poison you're working on," Percy continued as he set Fred face-up on the stretcher.

_What? _Fred stared at his older brother, jaw dropping.

Percy flushed. "I mean, I hope it's something you can cure instead of a similar-- You _did_ tell me you found the cure?"

"I said that we'd formulated a _potential _counter," the brunette replied calmly as he scanned Fred's leg. "It's untested." The scan finished and Marc turned to the other healer. "The potion's actions are consistent with the compound we recovered." He cast a spell that removed the remains of Fred's clothes, and scanned the rest of the wounds, including fresh ones on Fred's arm.

A second later he cursed. "The potion has seeped to critical organs. Not enough concentration for disintegration yet, but if the counteragent doesn't work..." He abruptly turned to the aide. "Page Ptolema. We need stock PAP-07-28-7a. _Now_."

He levitated the stretcher toward an empty bed; Percy moved to follow, but the blonde grabbed his arm.

"We'll take care of him, Fi," Marc called over his shoulder. He set the entire stretcher onto the bed. "_Accio gentilius _analgesic. _Accio _syringe and needle.

"Weasley," Marc turned to him as he caught a couple packages. "We've studied a sample of this stuff. It's fatal unchecked, but we may have a cure." He opened the packages and screwed a tube onto a thick-based needle inside a long, narrow, translucent thimble.

Off to the side, Fred could hear the woman lecturing Percy. She said something about his running off without authorization.

"Unfortunately," Marc said, "one of the ingredients interact with most pain potions, so I'd like to administer a Muggle drug."

"Muggle?" Fred asked dubiously as a glass vial with a metal stopper floated into the room and gently set itself on the shelf next to Marc.

Marc dethimbled the needle and inverted the vial. It's stopper had a rubber center through which he thrust the needle. "It will not remove all your pain, but it should keep you out of agony while the counteragent neutralizes the poison and clears your system. Then--if you survive--we can dose you with a more wizard-effective potion while we work on reversing the tissue damage." He slowly pulled a rod out of the tube, causing liquid from the vial to rush into the tube.

"My dad tried stitches once. Th--"

"_MY_ FAMILY!" Percy yelled.

Fred looked at his brother. As he started to walk past the blonde, the woman turned and swung her leg into the back of Percy's knees. He landed flat on his back. "You can read the Aurors' report with the rest of us," her cool voice carried through the now-silent infirmary. "But the only place you're going is a safety shower. Preferably before the slop transferred from your brother eats through your armor."

"Tend to your patient, Healer Flint," the gray haired healer said.

"I am." The dark haired man replied, pulling the needle out of the vial. He pushed the rod back up and expelled a few drops of liquid into the air. He loosely rethimbled the needle and set it on the shelf by the vial. "Give me your left arm."

"_Marcus_ Flint?" Fred blurted, suddenly recognizing the former Slytherin Quidditch team captain.

"Yes," the man replied, grabbing Fred's wrist from off the gurney, and extending the arm towards him. He cast a sanitizing spell over Fred's inner arm. Marc picked up the tube and needle, angling the needle to the flesh.

"You're not sticking me with that!" Fred pulled his arm free. _What, _he wondered, _is Percy thinking? _

"Unlike Healer Smythewick," the older healer suddenly spoke up, "_I _have a trainee that knows what he's doing."

Fred snorted. "Didn't he repeat his last year of Hogwarts?"

"Not my fault they cancelled _all _year-end exams," Flint retorted.

"Couldn't make the grade without them?"

"The St. Mungo's certification board only considers training candidates who have Ministry standardized NEWT results," the other healer said calmly. "His Hogwarts' estimated NEWT-values were quite respectable."

Fred looked at him skeptically.

"Look, Weasley," Flint said bluntly. "I know we didn't like each other much in school. I'm sure we still don't. But you are looking at the only two healers of _any_ training level to work on this poison after its discovery. We're your _only _chance of living, or at least dying in less misery. So grow up and give me your bloody arm!"

A young woman with short, auburn hair walked over. She held a clear amber bottle with an opaque liquid inside. Fred recognized _her _immediately. The only prefect to rival Percy as an impediment to the twins' pranks, Prewett had spent nearly as many hours in detention with Snape as they did. The miserable traitor had objected to her 'flaunting her unsuitability for Slytherin'. Aside from taking her prefect duties too seriously, Fred reckoned she was okay. _Not as awful as Flint, anyway. And if _she's _part of this cure--Anyone who'd stencil 'Mudblood & Proud' on her weekend robes wouldn't join You-Know-Who._ As the woman handed the bottle off to Smith, Fred felt a hand grab his arm. He turned to Flint in time to see Flint pierce Fred's skin with the needle. Flint held the arm still, slowly pushing the cool liquid into Fred.

"Do we expect anymore casualties?" the woman asked as Flint withdrew the needle and dumped the whole contraption into a red bin, then propped Fred into a half-sitting pose.

"I hope not," the healer trainee said as he took a cup from Smith. "Drink this," he instructed.

Fred grimaced at the milky, green-tan liquid. He had no idea if the color had a name, but if asked to suggest one, he would choose puke. "What's this antidote taste like?"

"No idea," Flint responded, meeting Fred's mouth with the cup.

The redhead braced himself and started to drink. The stuff didn't taste nearly as bad as some medical potions he had taken, but it left an unpleasant, cinnamon-like aftertaste.

"The antidote should start spreading through your system soon," Flint said. "As it spreads out, it will meet the poison spreading in. We'll apply the counteragent to your wounds, and attack the poison on all fronts."

Fred nodded absently after he finished guzzling the potion. As Flint shifted Fred onto his uninjured side, Fred glanced over to where had seen Percy hit the floor. His brother had vanished.

* * *

Ash continued to blow off of the burned-out orchard and across the rest of the Burrow. Molly blotted tears away from her eyes, and turned away from the kitchen window. Her eyes quickly found the family clock. All hands remained where they sat thirty seconds ago: Fred on 'unknown', Ron, Ginny, and Charlie on 'hospital', Bill, Arthur, and George on 'searching'-- 

And Percy on 'work'.

_Maybe the kids were right about him, _she thought, reflecting on the day's events...

_As the Aurors cleared away the bodies and prisoners, the chaos around the Burrow had begun to calm. That budding sense of relief crumbled once no one could account for Fred. They scurried around--double checking who had gone to St. Mungo's, seeing if Fred had all ready gone to the Ministry to give a formal statement, and searching the grounds for him._

_Fleur surprised them all when she asked about the family clock. "Aren't the locations adjustable?" Molly was about to snap at the girl when Fleur continued, her French accent stronger than normal. "Well, why not remove the 'mortal peril' spot and see _where_ he is in 'mortal peril'?"_

_They removed the label. It took the hands a minute to adjust and relocate. Fred's hand slowly circled the clock until it returned to the undesignated slot. The label, 'unknown' appeared..._

Bill and George had not been pleased that their brother had gone to work as usual after running away from battle. She had never seen Arthur more furious. Less than twenty-four hours after he _finally_ admitted he missed Percy, her husband had looked ready to hurt--maybe kill--his third-born.

_Can't say I'm happy with Percy either. I raised him to be more sensible than his foolhardy brothers, but not a coward. It does explain why he left us in the first place, if he's that determined to avoid fighting..._

Two hands switched from 'hospital' to traveling. Molly expectantly looked to the kitchen door. A minute later, the hands moved home. As the two redheads strode up to the Burrow, Molly opened the door. She rushed out, past the remaining Auror--who leaned against the wall next to the back door--and gave them tearful hugs. "Why isn't Ron with you?" she demanded. "I thought all your injuries were minor."

"They were," Charlie assured her. "He and Harry are staying with Hermione until the end of visiting hours."

"Where is everybody?" Ginny asking.

Molly went from blinking back tears to outright sobbing. "We can't account for Fred," she choked out. "Somebody needed to stay if he shows--" Molly quit trying to talk as Ginny wrapped her arm around her mother's shoulders.

Charlie strode past them, into the kitchen. "I'll go help. Where--"

A loud crash came from the kitchen. Molly rushed inside, Ginny on her heels. Charlie stood glaring at the clock. At his feet lay the scattered remains of a stack of dishes.

Charlie blinked. He pulled his wand and silently repaired them. "I'm sorry," he said. "I brushed the edge of the counter."

The preparations for Bill's aborted wedding seemed years away, but Molly remembered where she had set the stack. She could not find the strength to say anything though. First Percy ran off, and then Charlie reverted to childhood temper tantrums. Where had she failed her boys?

Charlie left the room without another word. Four cracks of apparition filled the air. Molly opened the door as Arthur rushed up to the house. "Where are the other Aurors?" he demanded.

"They aren't needed," the burly wizard replied flatly, not looking up from polishing his wand.

"My family was just targeted by Death Eaters!" Arthur growled. "They need protection!"

"You had the Minister of Magic here," the tawny haired man replied. "Given You-Know-Who's recent threats, you can't honestly believe they targeted _you_."

"THEN WHY TAKE FRED!?" Molly's heart fell at George's words. The younger twin ran over and threw a punch at the Auror's face. The Auror stepped to the right. George's fist smashed into the stone wall with a loud crack.

The Auror kicked his left foot forward and wrapped his leg behind George's right. A second later, George slammed onto his back. Molly rushed to his side. "I can't say what happened to him, kid," he said, still polishing his wand, "but there's no evidence this was anything other than a random attack." As Molly scanned George for injuries, Bill started for the Auror, but Fleur grabbed her fiancé's arm and whispered in his ear. "Even if it wasn't," the tawny-haired wizard continued, "a dead or captured Minister would serve their goals more than anyone else here today."

"Harry Potter is staying here, Flanders," Arthur said. "We both know You-Know-Who's position on him."

"Oh? Which memo covered that?" Flanders slid his wand into a holster at his side. He folded the polishing cloth and stuck it in a pocket. "For what it's worth," Flanders finally looked up, revealing cold purple eyes, "I hope your son returns safely. But even if _he _has targeted your family, the Death Eaters will not return tonight. They'll expect us to be on guard."

"Everybody, inside," Arthur growled.

"George needs to go to the hospital," Molly argued. "His fingers are broken beyond what I can mend."

"Bill, take him. The rest of you get inside."

Bill went to George and hoisted him up. They slowly walked to the edge of the Apparition boundary. Ginny stepped back from the door, and Fleur and Molly walked inside. Arthur spoke to Flanders a few more minutes before stamping into the kitchen. "Pack up. We're moving to headquarters."

"Snape knows--"

"The _fidelius _still holds," Arthur curtly cut off Molly. "He can't tell anyone where it is. We're warding the place against unauthorized portkeys. And if Snape tries coming alone--Well, we're setting a surprise for that too."

"It'll be more secure than here," Ginny muttered. "What about Fred? Is there any chance--"

Tears welled in Molly's eyes as she thought about George's words. "Is he really taken?" she blurted.

Arthur nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so. He's not in the hospital. We checked everywhere around here. And in town, the joke shop, Hogsmeade--anywhere familiar he may have gone if disoriented."

"And the unfamiliar?" she asked.

"None of the locating spells we tried worked. George--He's rather distraught. Apparently those two have some way of sensing each other, but it's not working right."

Arthur walked over and squeezed her shoulders. "It's not hopeless yet," he said. "Minerva has some ideas. She and Remus are researching them now. As long as we know he's alive, we won't quit."

* * *

"Just what is this place?" Fred demanded. 

Half-sitting in the bed next to his, Percy set the sheet of parchment in his lap and leaned back into the pillows. Percy's hair hung unstyled around his face, wavy red bangs resting above closed eyes--where the top of his spectacles should be. He wore gray pinstriped robes, against which his face no longer looked Snape-pale. _Guess the blood-replenisher's working._

Blood.

Fred's eyes drifted down to the tube and needle coming out of his left arm. After his father's foolish attempt at trying stitches, Fred had heard his mother rant about how grisly, barbaric, and ineffective Muggle medicine was. When he first heard Flint's latest brainstorm, Fred felt inclined to agree...

_Time dragged on forever until Flint determined that the antidote had started working. Unfortunately, as an untested potion, they could not foresee all possible complications--such as its interference with the anti-blood loss charms Flint had cast. Fred's flesh and blood no longer turned to sand, but he had wounds deep enough to bleed to death before they could be healed. _

_Fred did not worry at first. "I hate blood-replenishing potions," he complained, grimacing. _

_"You're in luck," Flint replied darkly. "I can't give you one while the counteragent's in your system."_

_Fred paled. "But..."_

_"We have two options. The first--which I do _not_ recommend--is a charm that stimulates your bone marrow to produce more blood."_

_"Sounds good," Fred responded._

_Flint shook his head. "Exposure to the charm sometimes causes blood cancers to develop. From what I know of your family's medical history, I believe that risk is elevated. _

_"What I'd recommend," Flint continued as Percy walked into the infirmary, "is what Muggles call a transfusion--taking blood from someone else and transferring it to you."_

_"But that's not possible," Fred protested. He and George had researched the blood-replenishing potion when developing their Nosebleed Nougats. They did not find anything about a charm, but... "'Due to the inamicability of two people's blood, mediwizard research into blood replacement focused on stimulating production.'"_

_Flint raised an eyebrow. "You've read Longbottom's." The Slytherin healer sounded impressed. "As medical texts go, it's not bad. But it tends to oversimplify things. The problem with early transfusions was that sometimes they worked, and sometimes they killed. Wizard kind had other means to combat blood loss, so they abandoned the practice. Muggles didn't, so they solved the problem."_

_"How? And whose blood?" Fred demanded._

_"Mine," Percy said firmly. He turned to Flint. "We're brothers--shouldn't our blood be similar?"_

_"Not necessarily," Flint answered. "But I'll check him against you--and Ptolema if she agrees--first."_

_"Why would our blood be different?" Fred asked. He started feeling dizzy._

_Flint then gave Fred a mini lecture about genetic shuffling, blood cell proteins, and immune system reactions while pricking Percy's finger and summoning sterile items to transfigure. The speech was nearly Percy-wordy. Fred only cared about two points: both brothers had type B blood, and Percy lacked some other factor Fred had._

_"So Perce is good for me, but I'm bad for him?"_

_Flint had the nerve to laugh. "You said it, not me. Fortunately, _you're _the brother who needs blood. I'll just scan Percy for blood-born diseases--I know you don't have any, Fi, but if we're going to do this, it should be done properly."_

_"Of course," Percy replied._

_"Once he scans clean, we can tap him for the blood you'll need."_

The blood I'll need... _"But I'm to lose more then enough to die!" Fred protested. "What about Percy?"_

_"_He's _safe to give a replenishing potion to," Flint replied dryly._

_Fred flushed. _Right._ "But Muggles don't have replenishers," he said quickly to cover his embarrassment. "How do they...?" _Merlin! _he thought. _Do their hospitals keep stocks of prisoners for emergencies? It would make a more redemptive end then the Kiss or that veil, but...

_"They bank it," Percy answered, causing Fred to blink. "Donors give a small amount of blood each, and it is stored under refrigeration until used or too old. Penny makes a point of giving each month. Or did. I expect she's kept it up."_

_"Oh." Fred watched Flint transform his sterile plasters into approximations of the Muggle items._

_A minute later, Flint had stuck Percy's arm, and the blood flowed into the first of the clear sacks._

_Flint came over and sanitized Fred's arm. "Your brother's charmed to lose blood faster than during a normal donation, but I'd like to go ahead and connect your line now. You're getting rather pale..."_

_Fred nodded barely hearing Flint's words as he spotted the frighteningly large needle. Soon a charm had some blood slowly climbing out of the bag, through the tube, and into Fred. Flint went back to Percy's side for the remainder of the bloodletting. The chaser wrapped a burly hand around Percy's slender fingers until Flint stopped the donation. He removed the needle from Percy's arm and grabbed a vial of the blood-replenisher off the shelf._

_It was only when Flint slid an arm under Percy and lifted his head up that Fred realized that his brother had passed out. "You took too much!"_

_Flint glared at Fred as he set the empty vial on the shelf. "I'd _never _place his life in danger for _anyone_," he said coldly, "much less you."_

_"Marcus!" Smith snapped. _

_Fred started. The healer had remained silent since his 'my trainee knows what he's doing' speech, and Fred had forgotten about the observer. _He must really agree with Flint's decisions, _Fred reflected. "Mr. Weasley cares about Percy too. He's just anxious."_

_Flint moved the blood sacks from the frame of Percy's bed to a rack over Fred's head. "He'll be fine," he said. "Though he'd appreciate some concern under normal circumstances."_

_Eventually, Percy stirred. Flint reached up and brushed Percy's bangs back. "How are you feeling?"_

_"Dead tired," Percy mumbled. "Do I have to get up yet?" The older redhead turned to the left. "Infirmary...? Fred!" Percy sat bolt upright, nearly knocking Flint's head with his own. His hands flew to his head as he slumped forward._

_"He's stable," Flint eased Percy back and propped pillows behind him. "_You _should stay put for the next few hours while you regenerate blood." _

_Percy turned to Fred and smiled weakly. "How're you feeling?"_

_Fred glanced down at himself. Flint had placed a banishment charm on the bed, so the blood that escaped the containment charm went--well wherever medical waste went. But Fred still lay on his uninjured side. Even without glasses, Percy should be able to see the rust colored stains. "Like a right bloody mess," Fred snapped sarcastically. "You?"_

_Percy chuckled, prompting a wave of anger. "Not so bloody or messy. I take it you're not in pain if you're joking, then?"_

Joking? _"Er... Not exactly. They itch." _He still shouldn't have laughed, _Fred thought._

_The brothers fell into an awkward silence until a man Bill's age walked over to Percy and handed him a sheet of parchment. "The summary report of today's Auror action," he said. "Rodgers asked me to bring you a copy."_

_"Thank you," Percy replied absently as he read over the parchment. _

_"I thought you were in Azkaban," Fred said as Percy and the newcomer turned to him. Flint walked to the far end of the infirmary. "You _are _Stan Shunpike, right? The papers--"_

_"Are callin' me a filthy Death Eater," the dirty blonde scowled. "Serves me mates right."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_Shunpike snorted. "Me two best pals thought it'd be _funny_ to trick me into thinkin' I'd been _Imperioed _into the You-Know-Who's ranks. Naturally, I was horrified, and before I sobered up enough to see through it all, rushed to get advice from a dear friend. One of her customers heard us, and turned us in for the reward money. By the time the Aurors cleared everything up, the __Prophet__ had reported my arrest. I was given the option of stayin' here while the world thought I was in Azkaban."_

_"Don't you want your name cleared?"_

_"It will be. For now, thinkin' I'm in gaol reassures the people and I get to fight _him_."_

_Fred blinked at that. "Just what is this place?"_

_Percy set the sheet of parchment in his lap and leaned back into the pillows..._

"He doesn't know?" Shunpike demanded. "But what--WHY'D YOU LET ME SAY ANYTHIN'?"

"He'd all ready recognized you," Percy said quietly, massaging his temples. "There was no point to keeping you from answering. This is my mess, and Josephine knows it. Just..." Percy looked Shunpike in the eye. "Go back to Processing, I'll handle this."

Shunpike left without another word.

"Perce?"

The older redhead held up a hand. "I know you have a lot of questions. I can't... Death Eaters read the Daily Prophet too. The Ministry has been less than upfront about the details of our efforts against them--to most Ministry employees as well. I am sworn to keep what I know of those matters confidential. Bringing you here--It was necessary. No one at St. Mungo's has seen the poison you were hit with--Smith's team should get notified immediately when anyone is admitted with symptoms matching any of the poisons they're working against, but things can go wrong, and time's critical--I'm not supposed to bring anyone here who isn't cleared. Mind, the circumstances… Until Shunpike walked in, all you knew about this place was that it did medical research. That is far easier to work around."

"Indeed. That is why I told Rodgers to bring you the report himself." The blonde woman from earlier emerged on the far side of Percy's bed. Flint stood just behind her.

Percy sat upright. "Josephine! I was just--"

"I heard," the woman replied flatly. "From 'Prophet, too' on. You might want to spend some time rereading that confidentiality agreement you signed."

"I didn't tell him anything he hadn't all ready heard."

"You confirmed it." The woman dropped a ledger onto Percy's lap. "I'm pulling you from Scridgemour. You have twenty-four hours to rewrite his security plan based on the enclosed profiles and the skill sets of your former teammates. First thing Monday, report to Flanders. He'll integrate you into his squad however he sees fit."

"Yes, Ma'am," Percy replied quietly.

"And as for you," Josephine walked over to Fred's bed. She looked him over with piercing blue-gray eyes. "Smith says you'll be here a week, so there's no point in having you _obliviated _before then. But _do NOT_ go looking for more information about this place, or I'll keep you here." The woman turned and strode out of the infirmary without another word.

Percy turned to Flint. "Marc, could you give us a moment?"

"I need to check his vitals in ten minutes." He left the area.

Percy pulled the flattened role of parchment out from under the book. "She can," Percy said staring at the parchment. "Keep you here. If she determines that returning you threatens Ministry security, she has the authority to detain you until the war ends--be it thirty days or thirty years. I know you and George never held much for following rules or instructions, but please, listen for once."

"If I'm to be_ obliviated_, what does it matter?"

"Memory charms can be broken. I'm sure they're arranging some story to keep the family from looking for them--I expect you'll turn up in some out-of-the-way clinic having recovered from temporary amnesia. Likely due to a head blow, or a botched _confundus_. But the more sensitive information you discover, the less those plans will weigh against the remote chance that the charm will be discovered--whether by You-Know-Who or the remains of Dumbledore's army."

"The DA was just a study group!" Fred protested. He ignored the all to real possibility of the Death Eaters capturing one of their family. "The name was a joke."

Percy stared at Fred. "Not _that _one. The Or--Never mind. Just remember, there is a point at which you'll be named a threat to this operation." He unfolded the parchment. "Let's see how everyone fared." Percy read through the parchment. Mumbling every now and then: "Aurors joined the fight just after we left… Death Eaters retreated within minutes… Some of the injured and unconscious were apprehended…"

Flint came over and started scanning Fred.

"Casualties--" Percy swallowed abruptly. "Cousins Randall and Marge are dead… Mr. and Mrs. Delacour… A friend of Bill's… A couple minor Order members… Loads of injuries… Looks like a burn curse grazed Ron's shoulder… Ginny broke a wrist… Charlie--" Percy cleared his throat. "Charlie strained what he called a recent Quidditch injury…"

Something about the way Percy said struck Fred as off. Flint apparently agreed. He had the oddest expression as he glanced from Fred's wounds to Percy.

"Hermione--" Percy swallowed hard. "Hermione blasted her left hand off."

"She's better duelist than that!" Fred protested.

"It was intentional. It looks like she got splashed by the same potion you were."

"What?" Flint turned and grabbed the parchment from Percy. "We're supposed to be notified if St. Mungo's admits _anyone_ with matching symptoms!"

Percy snorted darkly. "By the time she was admitted her only symptom was a self-inflicted amputation. And from the timing, she likely wouldn't have lasted that long, even with just the hand hit."

"So she blew it off," Flint commented. "Too bad she used _reducto_. The healers won't be able to regrow the limb."

Flint bit his lip and scanned down the scroll. "Do you know a Muriel Bennett?"

"Our mum's great-great-aunt," Percy replied. "Why?"

"She's listed as missing, but the Auror who found her wand noted a strange pile of sand nearby. I'm sorry, Fi, Weasley." Flint looked over the rest of the parchment. "I don't see any other evidence of the poison being used."

Fred stared at the floor. He never much liked Great-Aunt Muriel. The withered old biddy dotted on Bill as the first-born and heir, and occasionally acknowledged Charlie as the 'spare'. Otherwise she preferred to hand-make lace than to spend time with the Weasley children. But she had never involved herself in either war against Voldemort--or the one against Grindelwald, for that matter.

So why did she die, while Fred, who enthusiastically jumped into the fray would live?

And Hermione, the better fighter, would be permanently maimed, while Fred could expect a full recovery.

None of the jokes he knew could make sense of it.

* * *

**Author's note**: I heard that Ms. Rowing has revised recent editions of Philosopher's Stone to "correct" Flint's year down to fifth, but I decided to go with the interview that said he repeated a year. The events of Chamber of Secrets just leave too much possibility not to address. Now, why he could not take the Ministry's exams elsewhere--I'll explain later.

Personally, I would love it if Shunpike turns out a real Death Eater in Deathly Hallows. But since Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley are not in the Ministry's inner circle, he works very nicely here in a different context.


	3. Grudges

I want to assure everyone who has been following this story, that I will finish it. It will be slow going due to real life and my other stories, but there should not be any more two-year gaps. After _Deathly Hallows_,I needed a break from writing in the fandom, while I made some decisions. A few weeks turned into several months when Mobile Suit Gundam Seed absorbed my creative focus.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own, so I don't expect any money.

* * *

"...DESSERT US, YOU SODDING COWARD!"

Fred blinked up at the white ceiling. The last thing he remembered, Flint had told him that he could start healing Fred's wounds. So why did he hear Ron's voice? Had he been _obliviated_, just badly?

"WOULD DEFENDING US HAVE COST YOU A PROMOTION?"

Fred pushed up to a sitting position. He saw the same infirmary Percy had brought him to. Percy sat in a chair next to him. He wore brown robes and had the ledger that Josephine had given him open on his lap. He held his wand in his right hand, aimed at a red envelope in the air before him.

"YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BEAR THE NAME WEAS--"

Percy finished a complex series of wand movements and Ron's voice cut off. The envelope continued bouncing for a few minutes before it burned up at the end of its message. Percy calmly levitated the ashes to a bin in the infirmary corner.

"Was that a howler?" Fred asked blankly. "From _Ron_? Why?"

Percy sighed. "This time, he's upset that I 'portkeyed to safety'."

"This time?"

Percy looked uncomfortable. "Ron... Well, he always did know how to carry a grudge. What about you? I trust you're feeling better?"

"I--" Fred looked down at his freshly bandaged arm and shoulder. He lifted up the covers and saw more bandages on his side and leg. "Yes. How'd it go?"

"Smoothly, I'm told. The plasters will stay on for a few days while your new flesh integrates--they're spelled to keep your magical immune system from rejecting the new flesh. If you regain enough strength by this afternoon, Marc and Healer Smith will start you on short walks and light exercises to help tone the new muscle."

"Oh. That's good," Fred replied absently, twisting the blanket in his hands.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Fred glanced at Percy. He could tell his brother did not believe him. "It's just... You saved my life, and Ron thinks..."

"Only what you all expected."

"What do you mean?" Fred asked, taken aback by the weariness Percy's words.

Percy tilted his head and studied Fred's face. "You really don't..." He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "I've never quite fit in with the family. It's human nature to distrust what's different, so when Ron saw me activate the portkey, naturally you'd assume I abandoned you, instead moved a target _away _from you."

"But..." Fred stared at Percy. Sure, he had always needed loosening up, but they never expected him to turn against them before he walked out. "You did abandon us!" Fred snapped. "When you chose your career over us! If you hadn't done that, we'd still be trusting you!"

"Everyone trusted me then?" Percy asked coldly. "Obviously. That's why Dad's first words were 'A promotion? Wonderful! The Order could use inside knowledge of Fudge's dealings' instead of 'You just agreed to sell out your entire family'."

"Dad didn't mean it like that!" Fred protested. "He just thought you might let stuff slip without realizing it."

"So he trusts my integrity, just not my intelligence? That's more insulting."

"Well... after you stamped out, you never told us your side of the row."

"You never asked!" Percy snapped. "You were too glad to see me gone."

"Why would we try? You wouldn't even talk to Mum."

"What talk? She just told me Father was absolutely right and proceeded to tell me how to 'fix' it as if I were a bloody six year-old!"

"But..." Fred trailed off. As much as he loved her, their often-overbearing mother _did _have a problem letting her children grow up. "She missed you terribly. I mean you _were_ her favorite."

"Favorite?" Percy scoffed. Then he sighed, flipped the ledger closed, and stood. "I need to turn in this security plan," he said flatly.

"But..."

"I'll be back later." Percy left without another word.

Fred dropped back onto the pillow. Biting his lip, he puzzled over Percy's words and actions. Until he had broken ties with the family, their mother had judged the rest of them against Percy. But even had the twins been inclined to follow the rules, they could not have lived up to the perfect prefect. Fred could never see how _Percy _could.

_Well Forge and I used say he wasn't human, _Fred thought without any humor. _And when he finally messed up, it was big. _Fred bit his lip. They had all gotten sick of Percy's perfection long before he split from the family. Even Bill and Charlie had had their fill of 'Perfect Percy'.

Were _we glad to see it? _he wondered. _Not the split or Mum's crying, but to see him fall from favor?_ Fred folded his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling.

* * *

With a sigh, Bill set his trunk down next to the pile at the foot of the stairs. "That everything?" his father asked.

Bill nodded. "For us at any rate," he said as Fleur and Gabrielle set their bags down.

"Me too," Ginny said as she bounded down the stairs, dragging a trunk after her.

"Good. Your mother and I are done as well. She--"

A crack of Apparition sounded beyond the barrier. A quick glance at the family clock confirmed Ron and Charlie's arrival. His father opened the door. His brothers walked in along with Harry and Hermione. "We're relocating," he told the kids. "We've all ready packed up for you, but you've ten minutes to check for anything we've missed." He turned to Bill. "That's what you need for the wards, right?"

"Yes," he replied as his littlest brother and his two friends scampered up the stairs. He followed his father to the fireplace. They lifted a loose hearthstone, which revealed the ward's focal point. Bill smiled with satisfaction as he looked down at the silver ring that served as an anchor. A year ago, the Order asked him to fortify The Burrow with the strongest wards that he could--short of the Fideliuscharm, which his mother would not allow so long as Percy remained estranged. Moody had tried to argue that point, but Dumbledore said The Burrow's disappearance would only invite Ministry suspicion anyway. The wards that Bill wove had stood strong against the pair of Death Eaters that tried to infiltrate The Burrow. One of them had turned out to be a _very _renowned Curse Breaker. The fact that his wards trapped the wizard filled him with pride.

The fact that that same wizard had shredded his property-wide Anti-Apparition barrier like tissue, Bill tried not to think about. Structures were his forte, anyway.

After several slow, deep breaths, Bill had centered his magic enough to place his wand tip in the center of the ring. Channeling his magic into the ring, Bill mentally recited the appropriate incantations. When he finished, he looked up to find his mother shrinking the large tarp she had wrapped over all the luggage. "The Anti-Apparition wards will open up in one minute," he said as he and his father slid the hearthstone back into place. "Once the last of us leaves, they'll lock down the house."

"You heard him," his mother told the rest as she pocketed the package. Fleur grabbed her sister's arm for Side-along Apparition. "We leave the moment the wards come down. Fleur and her sister are set. Charlie, take Ron. George, Harry. Gin, you're with your father, and Hermione, I'll guide you."

"I'm licensed," the bushy-haired witch protested.

"You're injured," the family matriarch replied firmly. "Don't stress yourself."

A few seconds later, the wards came down. As the Weasleys readied to Apparate out, several pops sounded as figures in black cloaks and white masks Apparated in.

* * *

Fred sighed as Percy read an editorial criticizing the decision to reopen Hogwarts. He knew his brother meant well, but honestly, why had Percy insisted on reading the entire _Daily Prophet _to him? Fred only asked if it had anything _interesting_. As Percy droned on, Fred let his mind drift over recent events. "Would you really spy on the Ministry?" he blurted as the thought popped into his head.

"What?" Percy looked shocked. "Of course not!"

"You said that Dad should have asked you to."

"Well if he _had_ trusted me... If he really believes in the Order..." Percy met Fred's incredulous stare and sighed. "I would_ never_ spy on or turn against my family just to advance my career. He should have known me well enough to know I'd say no and never speak of it again."

Fred frowned and bit his lip. Percy's logic eluded him. "Why should he have asked, then? I just mean, if he knew you'd say no anyway."

"Well, obviously, he _didn't _know, and _didn't_ trust me, and--It's nice to be asked, I imagine."

"FI!" Flint rushed into the infirmary before Fred could think of anything to say. "Birdie just sent an alarm."

Percy stood and strode over to him. "Death Eaters?"

"Probably. The rest of the squad's already responded."

Percy nodded. "Thanks. I'm going to--"

Flint held out his arm as Percy started to walk past him. "You're not part of that squad yet, and even if you were, you're cover--"

"I can at least help in Tactical! I grew up in the Burrow!"

"THE BURROW!?" Fred yelped. "It's attacked again?"

"Can you?" Flint asked harshly, ignoring Fred. "Can you shove aside everything you feel for your family and treat them as random strangers? If not, you would just be in the way."

"I have to try." Percy swept past Flint without another word.

"WAIT!" Fred tried to get up and follow him out of the infirmary.

Flint caught his shoulders and held him in place. "You're not healed enough to do that much walking, and even if you made the trip, you'd just find yourself held until the end of the war."

"But he said knowing the Burrow could help. They've changed the wards--"

"We know," Flint said. "But you don't know our field procedures. That cancels your knowledge out. Besides, if the Death Eaters are in the Burrow itself, then the wards are a moot issue. And we _know _the room layout hasn't changed." Flint sighed. "There's nothing you can do there to help--"

"THEY'RE MY FAMILY!"

"So stay out of the way!" Flint instructed sharply. "That's the best thing you can do for them."

"I'm not some stupid kid," Fred grumbled, sick of everyone from his mother to virtual strangers thinking he had nothing to offer the war effort.

"No, you're not," Flint agreed. "So grow up and accept what you can't do."

* * *

"Get the kid's out of here!" Bill instructed, pulling out his wand. Fleur popped out with Gabriele before he finished speaking. Ron and Harry pulled their wands and dashed forward to meet the invaders with their own attack, George on their heels. His mother managed to grab both Ginny and Hermione and Apparate out.

Bill hurled a cutting curse at the Death Eater before him. The masked figure ducked and threw an orange spell back at him. As Bill dodged, he saw Ron hurl a stunner at one of the Death Eaters. _"Expelliarmus!" _Harry cried. Bill absently wondered at the quality of Hogwarts' recent Defense masters if the boy thought the disarming spell was useful for anything besides a surprise attack or a finishing move. Bill aimed a bone-breaker hex at his opponent's knees as he ducked a curse from another Death Eater. Charlie grazed one with a blasting hex just as Fleur Apparated in front of the fireplace, squatting on the balls of her feet with her heels and backside brushing against the masonry. She quickly assessed the situation and launched to her feet, firing spells as she raced toward one of the two George had engaged.

The next second, an irate-looking Hermione Apparated back in. She provided more of a target than Fleur had, as she stood up in open space behind Ron and Harry. Somehow, she avoided being hit and launched her own spells into the fray as she ran to join the boys.

A fireball whizzed past his head, drawing Bill's attention back to his own fight. He reflexively threw another bone-breaker, and the man went down as the spell impacted his leg. Bill had no time to disarm or knock the man out as the second wave of Death Eaters stormed the house. And from the crawling sensation that flashed across his skin, they had set an anti-Apparition field behind them. A silver-colored curse grazed his left arm, causing intense pain to blossom--in the cursed scars that littered his face. The pain caused Bill to falter his steps. "Bill!" Fleur cried out. A Death Eater tried to take advantage of her distraction and launched a slicing curse at her side. George conjured a shield that reflected it, and Fleur furiously sent a blasting curse that decapitated the Death Eater.

Bill fought to ignore the pain as he dodged a curse. He took aim at the Death Eater across from him. The Death Eater collapsed before he could cast a spell. Bill blinked. A figure in Auror's robes spun to the left and fired at another Death Eater. Other figures in red robes came into the house and attacked the Death Eaters from behind. In a few minutes, all the Death Eaters were dead or incapacitated. The Aurors conjured ropes to bind the unconscious Death Eaters and stretchers to transport the dead. Flanders, one of the Aurors, approached the Weasleys while the others worked in the background.

"Everyone okay here?" he asked sharply.

Ron had some hair and an eyebrow singed off. Charlie and George had several superficial cuts and his father was limping. Everyone turned their attention to Bill. His curse scars still throbbed, but the pain had lessened. "Yeah," replied roughly. "I think so. Dad?"

"It's just a wrenched ankle," his father replied. "What happened there?"

"I got grazed by a silver curse. It made my scars throb, but they're getting better."

Flanders frowned at him. "You're the one who got mauled by Greyback during Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Bill scowled. "But it wasn't a full moon. I'm not a werewolf," he added defensively.

"I know already," Flanders replied as he lifted the wand to scan Bill. "But if the spell's what I think, you'd be dead if you were. Well--" Flanders paused and studied a Muggle wristwatch on the underside of his left wrist. "You'd be writhing on the floor screaming yourself hoarse as you died, but you get my point." Flanders lowered his right hand as he finished the scan. "As I thought, the Homorphus Charm."

"Homorphus?" Ron asked. "Isn't that the spell Lockhart made up for his werewolf book?"

"The spell wasn't made up kid, though Lockhart clearly misunderstood it. It's capable of _temporarily _reversing a werewolf's transformation, but it kills two-thirds of them in the process. As well as every untransformed werewolf it's thrown at. It's residue lasts a week. You may have flares of pain until it vanishes." Flanders stowed his wand in his holster. "You guys going on a trip?" he asked, eyes sweeping over the shrunken luggage that had gotten scattered over the floor.

"After the previous attack, we decided to relocate somewhere safer," his father replied.

Flanders nodded. "Very well. Though we can't keep an eye on your family if you don't register your new address with our department."

"You can't leak our location, either," his father replied.

"Our archives are more secure than you give them credit for," the burly Auror replied. "But it's your choice. I'll leave a couple men behind to send another signal if anyone else drops in before you go. However, I think these two groups were it." As Flanders walked over to the secured Death Eaters, the current anti-Apparition barrier fell. All but two of the Aurors ported out with the Death Eaters.

"I didn't know the Ministry had been watching the Burrow for an attack," Hermione said after the group disappeared.

"Neither did I." Bill winced at his father's tone. The older redhead stood staring at the spot where Flanders and the others had disappeared. After a minute, he turned to Hermione. "What," he asked, "were you thinking coming back here without regard for your injury or the spells flying around where you appeared?"

* * *

"Is everyone all right?" Fred asked anxiously as Percy returned to the infirmary. "Were you able to help out?"

"I didn't need to," Percy replied. "The Death Eaters entered the living room where everyone had gathered to move to Gri--a safe location. They held their own while the response team flanked the Death Eaters and picked them off from behind. Dad, Ron, Bill, George and Charlie got a little scratched up, but everyone will be fine."

"Thank Merlin," Fred breathed.

"They've all relocated, and Bill's sealed off the house. I believe he left a note keyed to your magical signature, but I'm sure you know where they went." Fred frowned. He could not think of anywhere the family might go. Bill and Fleur had had bought a cottage, but it could not hold the whole family, plus Harry and Hermione. Percy sighed. "It's under a Fidelius, though they had to set up traps to deal with Snape."

Fred's eyes widened as he realized that Percy referred to Grimmauld Place. But how could he possibly know about that much?

"There are some tasks I need to go start in ten minutes. Is there anything you'd like me to get you? Some books, or perhaps an enchanted game? It can't be anything loud, and certain charms aren't allowed in close contact with some healing charms, but there are a few that will work. There are even a few Muggle games around here that could keep you occupied."

"I'm okay for now," Fred replied. "I could do with a nap, but maybe later. When will you be back?"

"Possibly tonight, though that'll likely be late. In the morning before I report to training, provided there's no emergency calls. It's unlikely, as the Death Eaters lost a few members in the last two attacks, but You-Know-Who is not the most predictable of enemies. Fortunately, not smartest, though still dangerous."

Fred frowned at that. "What do you mean by not the smartest?"

"You-Know-Who's good at striking fear in the populace, but some of the plans he's launched have been unnecessarily convoluted and could have gone better for him if he had not drawn them out. It allowed the other sides to be a bit more prepared for war when he raided the Department of Mysteries."

"Other sides?"

"The Ministry and Dumbledore's order."

Fred looked up sharply at that. "THE MINISTRY _KNEW_ HE WAS BACK AND STILL WENT AFTER HARRY!?"

"Not exactly." Percy sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "There were legitimate reasons to believe Dumbledore was losing it, but more than a few advised Fudge that Potter's story needed to be investigated more thoroughly. If not for You-Know-Who's return--which I thought unlikely--then for a would-be dark lord trying to gain power by capitalizing on _his _reputation. There were clear signs that _someone _was planning to take control of the Ministry. I'll grant that certain individuals fixated on Dumbledore, but the man _did_ make himself a valid suspect when he threatened to seize Fudge's power. We had to act accordingly. We did our best with what we had at the time, though I do wish we had done better."

"And Umbridge?" Fred asked bitterly, remembering his friends' and family's encounters with the unpleasant woman.

Percy sighed. "She _was_ sent to observe Dumbledore and... others for evidence of insanity or plots against the Ministry. After her hospitalization, we became more aware of certain actions during her tenure at Hogwarts. I don't know if she got carried away in her loyalty to Fudge or mad with power."

Fred made a face. "Shouldn't someone have considered that before sending her?"

"I didn't know her as well as the others, but the Deedee Umbridge I worked with was a pleasant, humorous woman. Too obsessed with blood purity for my liking, but she seemed harmless."

"Harmless?" Fred scoffed. Then he bit his lip as he thought of his last welcoming feast. While not particularly funny--at least not intentionally--Umbridge had come across as an ineffective toad of a person. He and George did not expect her to be their least favorite Defense teacher, much less wreck the havoc that she did. In fact, they had traded more then a few jokes about her. "So were you always a bodyguard?" he asked changing the subject. "How did that happen? And what about that mess with Crouch?"

"I have to go," Percy replied abruptly. "We'll talk later," he added as Fred opened his mouth to protest that they were legitimate questions. "I won't be able to answer all of that, but if it were _easy _to tell that someone was under the Imperius curse, a lot of damage from the last war would have been adverted--and likely some of the post-war acquittals. Unlike Dad and Thicknesse, most in the Ministry realize that." And with that, Percy strolled out.

Fred sighed and fell back into his bed. His brother had turned out different from what he had thought, and his unforgivable actions made more sense the more they talked. "_Only what you all expected," _Percy's voice from that morning echoed though his thoughts. Unspoken was _"Just what you'll think after Obliviation"._ A smirk spread across his face. Percy might be right that the family misunderstood him, but Percy did not understand the rest of them, either. And _no one _but George knew what went through the mind of a twin. He closed his eyes and focused on his bond with George. The wards in this place blurred the sense of him, though Fred could tell George was alive--and knew that George would currently know just as much about Fred. If he reached for George at the same time his twin sought him out, they should work around that, though. _I won't tell him any details that could harm your group, _Fred silently promised Percy as he closed his eyes. _Just that you came back after the Minister was safe, and that the Ministry wants to keep the hospital secret. If our muted bond's driving me nuts, George must be frantic and think I'm captured. And you deserve us knowing enough to hear you out when the war ends. We can't tell the rest of the family before that, though, _Fred realized. _Mum, Dad and Ginny would not let it rest. Ron can't keep his mouth shut, and the way Bill's been acting…_

* * *

He found himself strolling through a large, two-story tall room. Offices and doors surrounded the first story, while a balcony surrounded the second. To his left, a cluster of desks stood in a semi-circle. Witches and wizards worked at half of the desks, sitting so that they would face the outside edge of the circle if they looked up from their tasks. The right half of the room had an oval conference table with a cherry finish and a thirteen-inch globe of smoky quartz set in the center. White tile covered the floor. A thin circle of smaller, light gray tiles surrounded both the area around the table and the group of desks.

"How's the family reunion going?" Josephine asked as she walked beside him. Her high-heeled, black leather boots clicked sharply against the tile floor. Her black leather coat hung open, revealing an equally black dress. In her left hand was a slim, blue file.

"Okay," he replied. The blonde turned and regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "Frustrating. We're talking calmly enough to work through our past disagreements, but I can't explain myself too deeply, or I'll land him in a holding cell. And if he's going to be Obliviated anyway... There's little point of healing our rift."

"There is a third option," the blonde replied, causing a flush of panic to flash through him.

"You promised--"

"His skills would be better applied away from the front lines." The woman handed him her file. "I'm going to try to talk Lucius into doing something decent for once. I'll have to resort to a bit of emotional blackmail, so I'll need your reputation for having memorized the entire codex of decrees and regulations."

"Of course," he replied as opened the file. The first page had a cropped school photo of Draco Malfoy and a synopsis of his involvement in the battle of Hogwarts. He found himself absently wondering how he had gotten his reputation as a walking reference. True, he studied the Ministry's decrees and regulations rather extensively, but he was hardly the only one--the woman next to him, for example. However, all too many people would believe the Ministry had decreed the sky be blue if he told them that. "Can I ask why we're trying this now?"

"His son is in contact with some players that could have desirable Intel. As the kid's currently a minor player--and Lucius' weak spot--Scridgemour's willing to extend leniency if we get enough."

"Leniency for the boy?" he asked, frowning. "Admittedly, he hasn't raped, tortured, or killed anyone yet, though his role in the Hogwarts battle… He's not what I'd call an innocent, Josephine."

"No," the blonde woman agreed. "And the kid won't get off completely, just better than he would be otherwise."

"Which is where my knowledge of criminal code comes in?"

"Exactly," the blonde smiled a rather predatory smile. "Lucius looks down on Squibs too much to accept anything I say, but I'm hoping he'll believe you--and that I'm vengeful enough to crucify his kid."

"Are you?" he asked. The blonde turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Vengeful enough to hurt him through the boy?"

"Lucius may well think I've had my revenge if this pans out, and I can't say I object to that. However I would not waste the effort if it didn't benefit our cause."

He nodded. "I understand." The pair reached a double door on the opposite side of the room. Through the doors was a hallway with similar tile. The two quickly strolled to the first room on the left. Inside the small room, harsh light illuminated everything: a small table, two empty chairs, and Lucius Malfoy chained to a third chair, with an Auror standing guard behind him.

"Hello, Lucius," the blonde smiled as she sat in the closest chair. He took the chair on the left.

Malfoy ignored Josephine's greeting. "So much for having more sense than the average Weasley," the blonde sneered at him. "How'd you manage to fall so low, once you avoided Fudge's disgrace?"

He ignored Malfoy's jab and handed the file back to Josephine. She opened a folder on the table in front of them. "'Draco Narcissus Malfoy,'" she read in a formal and deliberate manner. "'Wanted for admitting Death Eaters into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on the thirteenth of June, nineteen hundred and ninety-seven, _anno Domini._' Under the conspiracy statues, he is criminally responsible for the full weight of events. So that's… 'Twenty-five counts of murder--'" He forced his expression to stay neutral at Josephine's inflation of the casualties. Malfoy's face was as unreadable as he hoped his own was. "'Seventy-six counts of assault with bodily harm, one hundred thirteen counts of assault with intent to commit murder or bodily harm, and three hundred sixty-three counts of intended assault with intent to commit murder or bodily harm.'"

Malfoy scoffed at the last figure. "You can't seriously believe he wished to slaughter the entire school!"

"Dumbledore was the primary target," Josephine conceded blandly. "But an only an idiot lets known killers into a school and not think anyone who crosses their path is at risk. Or are you dim enough to expect me to believe you let little girls from an allied family just go on their way?"

Malfoy's gray eyes twinged. _Interesting. Josephine's referring to an actual incident. And not one Malfoy expected her to know of..._

"'Following the assault, young Malfoy aided and abetted known Death Eater Severus Snape in his escape from justice,'" Josephine continued. She looked up from the file and leaned back in her chair. "That's over five hundred criminal counts from one night alone. In the past seven weeks, he has continued to associate with wanted fugitives. Just what we can confirm makes your spawn guilty of two thousand additional crimes. That's quite a tally for someone so young. And he's only getting in deeper. I'm afraid I'll to have to authorize the Aurors to kill him on sight."

"You can't--"

"Of course I can," Josephine cut Malfoy off. "We have to empower our Aurors to defend themselves from dangerous criminals."

"Since you've been incarcerated," the redhead began, recognizing his cue, "the Ministry has taken a proactive stance on the Death Eater threat--"

"That may be," Malfoy said calmly. "But there's no way that the executive staff would leave such a decision to a _Squib_."

"Who else?" he rejoined without blinking an eye. "A while back, _someone_ invested heavily in convincing Fudge to keep the Auror count down. We need every available magic wielder in the field. And since risk assessment doesn't_ require_ the use of magic..." He trailed off and watched the expressions play across Malfoy's face as he processed the implication. "It is ironic that such efforts to advance You-Know-Who's pureblood agenda caused such a decision."

It was a much paler Malfoy that turned back to Josephine. "He's your nephew!"

"What nephew?" Josephine drawled, folding her hands on top of Draco's file. "'No Squib could ever emerge from the Malfoy line', so the boy cannot be a relation of mine."

"Damn it, Valeria--"

"Josephine. I have no right to any name bestowed by your father, after all."

Malfoy gritted his teeth and glared at Josephine. "You're bluffing," he said suddenly, his posture relaxing. "You were always sickingly soft about children."

The redhead blinked. _Josephine soft?_

"What child? He was of age for every crime I listed."

"Barely. You have to realize that he's a minor player in this."

"Minor? Your precious master didn't task Dumbledore's assassination to Snape. That was _Draco's _assignment. Something about a reward for your failures." Malfoy stiffened, but otherwise did not react to Josephine's statement. The blond woman smirked at him. "It's impressive that he managed to successfully smuggle the assault force into the castle. Even though Snape wound up casting the spell, your son did manage to outsmart the entire castle. I can't take the risk that he won't wreck as much havoc with his next big assignment."

Malfoy's face remained inscrutable as he processed Josephine's words. Josephine waited calmly. After a few tense moments, Malfoy deflated back against his chair. "I'll answer your questions," he said flatly.

"You've been in custody for a year. Your knowledge of your master's plans has... depreciated."

"You want to know what I do about the Dark Lord. Trust me."

"I didn't say your knowledge had lost _all _value. However, the fact remains that I'm going to need more before I consider giving you any favors."

"Favors?" Malfoy spat. "Cow."

"'Sticks and stones', Lucius," Josephine drawled. Malfoy frowned, looking confused at the words the redhead vaguely recognized as part of a Muggle phrase. "Now, what are you willing to give up in exchange for your son's future?" The redhead studied Josephine's face, wondering where she was going with this.

_Who cares? Malfoy's are nothing but trouble._

_Wha--GET _OUT_!_

Fred's eyes snapped open as pain slammed through his head. He closed his eyes as stars swam in his vision and made him nauseous. _What the hell? _he thought as he brought a hand up to massage his forehead. He had never had a headache so intense or sudden. _I could have sworn I heard Perce yelling. _He frowned at bit his lip as he thought back. He tried to contact George but apparently dozed off and started dreaming about Percy and his blond boss. _Was that--_

Fred's head swam as he made the mistake of turning from his back onto his side. Fred laid still for an eternity before the pain in his head receded. Sometime later, he heard furious footsteps making their way through the infirmary. The next thing he knew, a hand seized his wrist. Fred found himself staring into Percy's blazing eyes. Over his brother's shoulder, he could see Josephine watching them sternly. "What," his brother hissed, "were you doing in my head? _How _were you in my head?"


End file.
